


Back to You

by stardustsroses



Series: Back to You [1]
Category: The Folk of the Air - Holly Black
Genre: Angst, F/M, Fluff, jurdan - Freeform, jurdan fanfiction, slight toxic relationship, tcp, the cruel prince - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-24
Updated: 2018-06-28
Packaged: 2019-05-28 03:04:47
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 17,514
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15039296
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/stardustsroses/pseuds/stardustsroses
Summary: Jude and Cardan are good at playing games - but they’re not so good at losing them. When Jude finds Cardan in a compromising position with someone else, she realizes that in the end she may be the one to lose the most. / post-tcp /





	1. Chapter 1

Jude

What have you done Jude?

What have you done?

Kingmaker.

You crowned a prince as cruel and sharp as the spikes on his crown.

As cold as the jewels on his throne.

What have you done?

I writhe in my sheets, bury my face, my heart, my feelings, into the pillow and pray its softness is enough to send me to sleep. To stop thinking. To stop those voices in the back of my mind, voices of mine, that dig me deeper into the hole – a hole of my doing.

When the sun is high in the skies and the heat becomes unbearable, I sit and look around the sunlit room. Alone. Tired. Once more. 

The tears are dry on my heated face. I lift my sleeve to wipe them only to realize that new ones have begun to slide down my cheeks. I touch my face, the dark circles under my eyes with my bare fingertips, and feel the warm water in bafflement.

What have you done?

I hold my knees to my chest.

You crowned a king as cruel and sharp as the spikes on his crown.

I wrap my arms around my legs.

As cold as the jewels on his throne.

I contain a sob.

And you fell in love with him.

I am not sure when, in truth, I finally realized it.

There were moments with him – moments when our voices would cut each other like swords; moments when he would sink down onto his throne with careless grace and a smirk painted on his lips as he beheld me, though his eyes did not hold anything remotely close to amusement – hatred, sometimes. Passion, other times. Then there were moments when I would allow him to corner me against a hidden wall; moments when I would allow his lips to cover mine in a searing kiss; moments when I would allow his breath close to my ear, his razor-sharp teeth just grazing the underside of my jaw; moments when I would be the one with my hands tangled in his curls, sliding down his chest, wrapped around his middle, pulling him closer until I could no longer remember why I had wished, time and time again, to have my hands wrapped around his neck.

Maybe it was one of those moments.

Or maybe it was just now. When I saw him.

It was a stupid, insignificant, meaningless message that I had to deliver to him. It could have waited until tomorrow, especially since the sun was almost up and it was time to retire to bed, but I-

Truth was – I wanted to see him.

I wanted the bickering.

I wanted the smirking and the mean words and the tension.

I wanted his voice and his eyes and his attention.

I ignored it all, of course, with the pretence that it was better to get it done with. Who knows - I might have forgotten the cook’s message for the king. I might have messed up the question the cook had asked me to deliver – and it seemed urgent. So with all these reason and some more I made up on the spot to convince myself, rather foolishly, that I had to see the king, I opened the throne room doors. I knew Cardan was probably drinking himself to death – again – and not holding court.

But he was holding a faerie.

Neither noticed me when I entered. But my vision blurred and my breath hitched and the note in my hand dropped to the floor.

He cornered her against the wall.

Like he’d done with me.

He kissed her passionately.

Like he’d done with me.

His teeth grazed the underside of her jaw.

Like he’d done with me.

A million thoughts, a million words, a million gestures swirled around in my mind as I watched the pretty, pink-haired faerie fumble with his coat. My hand gripped the handle of the sword at my hip. My fingers squeezed it, and I found myself baffled by the rage inside me. Found myself frightened of the rage inside me.

He must have heard the sound of my heart hitting the floor, for he pulled away and snapped his head to me.

His lips were bruised.

But his eyes – they were something else. Hatred and passion gone, replaced with something I couldn’t quite place. His hands dropped from her half-clothed body as if she’d burned him.

He composed himself quick enough and I could not move. Couldn’t. “What are you doing here?”

The rasp of his voice woke up something nasty inside me. As it always did. But this time I felt the blood in my veins boil, I felt the anger thrumming as Cardan walked towards me with a sneer on his face, his buttons undone, his face heated. I felt the drums of hate echoing in my mind.

I never wanted to crumble so much.

“A message,” I spat, picking the note up from the floor and shoving it in his chest. “About your dinner tomorrow night.”

I didn’t apologize.

I turned and walked away.

I was already in the hall, the weak rays of sunlight starting to crawl through the open windows when I felt his hand wrapped around my wrist. He was cold.

A wave of nausea hit me so hard that I staggered away from him, slapping his arm away. “Get off me.”

“What is your problem?” He said in my face.

I wanted to come closer to him and drive my sword up his ribs.

But I put three steps between us and said, “You have duties. And instead of actually doing something, you’re either prowling the halls drunk off your ass or kissing-“

Cardan laughed. It was an ugly laugh I didn’t like. Loud and fake and mocking.

Cruel.

“Need I remind you who put me on the throne in the first place?” He shoots back. “I told you, Jude,” he prowled closer and my courage wavered for a moment. “I told you I would not be useful.”

A slap in the face – that’s what that was. A reminder. Of what I was – what we were to each other.

Despite every lingering moment between us, I knew from the beginning that Cardan and I would be nothing to each other until my life ended. That it wouldn’t change. Despite every breath he wasted against my neck, despite every touch, there would never be a time when it could be something more.

I knew, whenever his lips touched mine, that I was destined to run to the edge of that cliff with him, only to fall and see him standing there, on top of the world, safe and protected and unaffected, while I came closer and closer to breaking my bones.

And still.

And still I ran. And still I fell. And still I broke.

And Cardan stared down at me as if I was the most inconvenient thing in his life. And that moment made me snap to reality. Made me see him, after months, for what he truly was. The mean bully. The hurtful boy. The cruel prince.

Maybe I did let my heart soften for him after he was crowned. Maybe I let began to let him through the small cracks of my heart after I saw what his brother did to him, what he lived through. Maybe I wanted to understand the way he was. Maybe – maybe – part of me had forgiven him.

Cardan didn’t deserve forgiveness.

So I turned my back on him.

“Walk away, Jude,” he said to my back. “Run away. Ignore the real reason why you’re upset.”

He was following me. I unsheathed my sword – a threat. I kept walking.

“You’re jealous.”

“Convince yourself of that, Cardan,” I said, surprised to find my voice as cold and smooth as a frozen river. “If it helps you sleep better.”

I felt him watching me, my face, intently. No attention paid to my sword as he said, “You wanted to see me, and now you’re running away because you didn’t like what you saw. You didn’t like that it wasn’t you.”

And he said with such…righteousness, that my feet stopped.

And turned.

He watched me and I watched him.

I gave him a smile laced with poison. Let him choke on it. “You didn’t like that it wasn’t me. You could’ve ignored me. Sent me out. But you willingly stopped, followed me out here, and still you haven’t left.” I took two steps towards him and the hilt of my sword touched his chin, lifting it. Cardan sneered down at me but didn’t say anything. I saw how my closeness made his breath hitch the slightest bit, how his eyes flashed when they met mine, when the cold hilt of my sword touched his chin. My smile grew wider, meaner, crueller. The poison was in my words now. “Careful, Cardan. You’re crawling too close to the edge.”

“You-“

“When you take her to bed and see my face,” I told him, my hilt digging into his throat, “you remember these words: I don’t care.”

I pulled my sword down. We stared at each other. He looked as if he’d kill me, and I bet I looked the same.

“Your crown is slipping, king,” is the last thing I told him before leaving for my chambers.

Living with him is difficult. Reigning for him is madness.

I shake my head at myself and stare out the window.

Madness. All of it. How did I think I could do it?

For your brother. For your future.

I want nothing more than to leave this palace.

Your work is not over.

You created this mess – fix it.

I lay down with my eyes open, feeling as if I’ve lost complete control of myself. Because in the beginning, it had been so easy to just hate him. To bicker with him and enjoy it. To let myself imagine him falling off a cliff. Now I imagine my arms around him.

For a moment I thought I’d seen weakness when he’d pulled me down to sit on his legs. For a moment, when his forehead had fallen on my shoulder and his hands had gripped my sides so, so desperately, as if I was an anchor and he was drowning in a dark sea, I thought I had cracked him open at last. I thought I’d seen the true Cardan when his tired eyes, rimmed with red, had stared up at me.

The next day – it was all washed away with rain. His kisses included. And I was cold again.

In the nine and a half months after his crowning, I’d seen him struggle with the weight on his shoulders and I tried to carry some – most – of it for him, knowing perfectly well that despite it being his responsibility, I was to blame for that responsibility having fallen on him in the first place. He never let me forget, either. I worked with him, side by side, I solved problems, I played soldier and spy and whatever was necessary to protect his throne – my brother’s throne. And in those hours I had struggled in vain to keep my sanity and to keep my fingers off him.

I still do not know what it is. What drags me so close to him.

He’d made an effort to see me, too – even if it was just to insult me. But then he’d leave with a grin on his face and I’d find myself choking on a laugh. Other times he barged in through the door and stood there, as if against his will, as if doubtful or scared or confused, but then he’d come closer and take my hand and tilt my head back. And I’d tell myself I shouldn’t want it – the desperate press of his lips, the way his arms snaked around me like the softest prison, the gentle kisses up my neck.

It was a lie.

I wanted him then and I want him now.

Cardan would live to be hundreds of years old. My life to him would pass in a blink of an eye. Him wanting me did not change that. It only made it more obvious how much we needed to stay away, and what I saw only an hour ago proved exactly that.

I need to stay away.

I need to ignore this pain in my chest.

It means nothing. He means nothing. He is nothing.

I rest my head on my pillow and dream of nothing.

***

On the thirtieth day, he knocks on my door.

I know it’s him by the impatient tap of his foot – or tail – on the floor. I know it’s him because my heart is beating out of my chest.

I haven’t heard his voice in thirty days and it startles me.

“Still hiding like a scared child?”

I scoff, despite myself, seated on my bed. I turn to the door as if it’s him. I prepare a whole speech, a load of insults, ready to shoot at him, but in the end I close my mouth.

There’s no point. Arguing will make me open this door and push him inside.

So my eyes turn back to my book.

He bangs again. “Jude,” his voice is threateningly calm, yet the impatience is there – the thin ice coating the troubled waters. “I order you to open this door.”

I snort.

“I am your king,” he almost bellows, but is voice is a soft rasp now, covered in sugar dust.

It wasn’t easy avoiding him during that whole month. Cardan seemed to be everywhere I went, and I still had a job to do. Still – I had managed to step out of the room whenever he was around, as well as avoid the places I knew he frequented the most. Like the wine cellar and the throne room.

I smile grimly. “Your reports are in your chambers, at your desk as usual. Your agenda is empty for the day,” I say coolly. “The servants are finishing preparing for the dinner party. All is taken care of. You do not need me, Your Majesty.”

My voice is coated like his. But my sugar is salty.

“You’re avoiding me,” I hear him say. “Like a coward.”

My mouth is shut.

“Jude-“

I say nothing.

And Cardan leaves.

***

The Faeries drink and sway with the music, their bellies full and their smiles sugary. The bells over my head sparkling like a thousand stars alongside the million white candles dripping wax all around the room, the vines of bright red flowers wrap around each marbled pillar, and the great hall smells like spices and dangerous things.

I spot one of those dangerous things at the throne, looking bored as ever.

He wears a coat the colour of plums with a thin white shirt underneath. His trousers are sparkling silver, shoes match his hair and crown, and he looks like a king. It’s not a good look on him.

I do my duty, smiling and bowing and keeping my pretty little mortal mouth shut.

Kingmaker, they whisper.

Deceiver, Cardan’s eyes growl at me. He meets my gaze for the first time in forever and it is not kind. He turns his face away as if he’d caught sight of an ugly insect.

But then he’s looking at me again.

And this time his gaze is not cruel.

It is wicked.

I feel my heart in my throat as I watch Cardan stand from the throne. He claps his hands twice and the room is still, the music vanishing, the attention on him. 

I grip the cup in my hands hard enough to shatter the glass.

“And now,” his voice echoes in the large room. His teeth glint menacingly in the candle light. “A dance.”

He signals to the quartet on the right side of the room, and the music starts again as pairs float around the room with ancient grace. I’m left standing in the middle, the symphony wrapping around my bones, each note plucked from the strings of my heart, matching with each one of his steps.

Towards me.

The crowd parts and stares and I want to run away.

Cardan stares me down as he comes close and I want to pull him towards me.

Slowly, he takes grabs my wine and places it on a passing tray, never taking his eyes off me.

He holds out a hand – not a demand. A request. A peaceful one too, despite the simmering anger in his eyes. His gesture tells me he’s exhausted.

I’m exhausted too.

I take his hand and the fae gasp around me.

He pulls me into his arms.

So warm.

I haven’t been this close to him in thirty three days, and I think I’m delirious for accepting him, dangerously close to losing my mind when I let him sway me gently around the room. I’m reminded of months ago, when we’d done the same. When he’d interrupted my dance and stole me for himself.

I wait for him to speak but he says nothing, and I refuse to meet his eyes.

A hurricane builds itself in my throat.

Cardan’s touch on my hand is not hard, like I expected it, but firm. As if he’s letting me have the space to shove him off, if I want to.

I don’t.

And I don’t.

Finally, he says against my cheek, “Tell me why you’re avoiding me.”

His voice melts the hardest parts of me. But my voice is equally firm as I tell him, “I’m sick of playing these games with you.”

That wicked smile against my ear. “Games are so fun, Jude.”

“Games get you distracted,” I pull my face away, eyes set on the throne behind him. I trace the thorns.

“Depends on which games.”

I fix him with a look. His lines are lined with gold. “Whatever game we were playing – it’s over.”

“Why?”

“Why what.”

“Why stop playing,” he whispers, smiling, “when we’re so good at it?”

“That’s the thing,” I tell him, adjusting my arm on his shoulder. “We’re not good at it. We’re terrible. And I don’t want to play anymore.”

“You’re a sore loser, Jude Duarte.”

“I lost nothing,” I say, stopping in place. I pull my hands away from him. Cardan does the same. “I’m quitting before I lose anything.”

Cardan narrows his eyes at me. “So it did bother you.”

“What.”

“Watching me with someone else,” he says thoughtfully. “It hurt you.”

I realize what I let slip. He probably knew it the second the words came out of my mouth, the bitterness in them. Maybe he knew it when he looked into my eyes.

I pick up my pride from the floor. I draw a smile. “So that’s what you were expecting? For me to catch you? You planned it didn’t you? You wanted to hurt me.”

Cardan is silent.

He can’t lie.

So I ask him, “Did you do it to hurt me?”

I press him. He can’t lie.

“No.”

I blink, not expecting his answer, not expecting his eyes to turn so cold, so-

Hurt.

“Why?” This time is me who asks it.

Cardan scoffs, shaking his head. 

“You came to me just now. You banged on my door days ago demanding I give you an explanation. You give me an explanation.”

I know why.

Deep down, I know.

But I want him to say it. I want to hear it from him, word by word, not because it pleases me but because I need him to realize it.

I need him to see that he is indeed hurting me.

I want him to remember the Cardan that buried his face in my neck and held me for almost an hour, arms clutched around me tight, as if he could not bear to be alone. I want him to remember the gentle Cardan, the Cardan who didn’t have a sneer permanently attached to his face. I want the smiling, bickering Cardan who came to me every day after he woke up to drink coffee with me in the solitude of his office. I want the playfulness and the annoyance. I want the Cardan who kissed me, the Cardan who seemed real when his lips were on mine.

The Cardan who made those kisses and those touches and those words and those gestures feel like something more than they really were.

“Did you want her?”

Cardan doesn’t meet my gaze.

“Cardan.”

I see the fluttering of his eyes. It’s barely noticeable, but I do. Because I’m so close. Because I know him.

I don’t need to ask him again – I know his answer just by looking at him. Seeing the clenched fists, the muscle twisting in his jaw. I see how it bothers him – to want me.

I don’t want it to bother him.

I don’t want it to bother me.

I want so many things.

I find myself whispering, “Tell me things have changed.”

He looks at me.

His eyes are dark night skies enveloped by rain clouds. Black and shades of grey that I can’t name. Depthless black holes that pull me in.

Cardan furrows his eyebrows and opens his mouth. My heart grows wings and he cuts them – he doesn’t say anything.

I swallow, feeling myself disappear.

The world is empty now, there are no strangers with painted smiles and bright hairs and colourful skins. The crowd doesn’t exist. It’s me and him, staring at each other, two rivals turned lovers turned something else entirely, not knowing what to do with each other, wanting and not wanting, hating but not hating.

I don’t have enough fingers on my hands to count how many times Cardan has hurt me.

I can count on one hand the times he made me happy.

1\. When he’d leaned his head on me, his fingers tight around my dress, holding me as if he’d shatter. The moment he’d looked up there had been no shame in his eyes, only want. He wanted to kiss me then. And he did. He touched my cheeks, leaning me down, and touched his lips to mine and it was soft, it was nothing else I’d imagined, nothing I could’ve associated with this prince who’d been born to destroy me, it was gentle, surprisingly gentle, just the press of his lips on mine just before there was a knock on the door. And then we separated and he went down the stairs to play king without looking back. Like it had never happened. Like he hadn’t strode through my room and sat on my bed with his face in his hands. Like I hadn’t asked him what was wrong. Like his arms hadn’t pulled me to him.

Just that one time.

And I’d been happy – not for his misery, the roots of which I still did not know – but for the fact that he chose me, he came to me, he held on to me.

And now-

Now I see the same conflicted Cardan in front of me. Pretending not to be vulnerable. Struggling to build the walls around him, but the bricks keep falling off. The mud doesn’t stick.

“Say it,” I whisper to him, “Say it has changed for you.”

Nothing.

I nod to myself.

“Not so fun now, is it?” I murmur to him, my voice darker than the night outside. “You try so hard to win that you’ve only just realized you lost, Cardan.”

You lost me.

When I walk away, he does not follow. I leave him silent.

When I sit down on the stairs outside the palace, watching the back garden, the silent fireflies, the sad flowers, he does not come.

Game over.

***

I’m lying on the grass, counting stars and constellations when I feel him lay down next to me.

My eyes are closed. I pretend I’m somewhere else.

A world away, another time, when I found him laying down right here, on his own, looking as if he’d been counting stars, too.

The silence isn’t heavy, but the words unsaid hang above us like twinkling lights, like reminders of what we’ve done to each other. What he’s done to me.

“What do you feel for me?” He asks suddenly.

His voice sounds misplaced amongst the calmness of this garden. It’s a harsh wind on a spring day.

“What do you feel for me?”

“I asked you first.”

I open my eyes. Stare at the twinkling lights, count the reminders. “I feel like I could punch you in the face.”

Cardan is silent. It’s a strange mood on him – silence. Harsh winds are never silenced with a snap of fingers.

Slowly, lowly, as if ashamed of the words, he whispers, “I needed to get you out of my head.”

He says it with clenched teeth.

Like he wants to stop the words from coming out.

And when that pain echoes in my chest, I have to remind myself – He owes you nothing.

It was never decided what we were when we were alone. Cardan might’ve run with me to the edge of that cliff, might have encouraged me to go there with him, but he didn’t push me.

I jumped by myself.

On my own accord.

But the words still ring like warning bells in my head. I can’t have you in my head. Not you.

What they suggest. It makes me cringe.

“You needed to get me out of your head,” I repeat to the stars in a whisper.

“You don’t know what you do to me,” he’s angry. “You don’t know how much I want…” He trails off, signing.

“Me?”

“It drives me mad,” he growls. He looks at me and I don’t meet his gaze. I feel the daggers in his eyes pointed at me. “Every second. Every day. Every fucking day. I can’t sleep, I can’t eat, I can’t fucking do anything without you being there.”

“You sound like you’re suggesting that it’s my fault.”

“It is your fucking fault.”

I raise an eyebrow, look at him.

He’s sitting now, breathing hard. “And it didn’t suffice that you’re a mortal – of all things to love, it had to be a mortal – but you also had to go and place a crown on my head. Betray me. And put a crown on my fucking head.”

I sit up, stare at him. “What did you say.”

“I said you had to go and put a fucking-“

“No,” my voice breaks. I cough once and almost gasp, “What did you say?”

Of all things to love-

To love.

To love.

Cardan stares at me like he’s seen a ghost. His eyes are wide and his mouth parted, the gold gone, the flair gone, the charm gone, and he’s bolting into a standing position and placing the bricks back around him, hoping the rain doesn’t push them down again.

“You managed to get in,” he says harshly. His smiling like a maniac, like he wants to shatter the world. “Somehow. You managed to make me feel something for you. Ridiculous,” he spats. “I don’t feel things. I haven’t for a very long time. And when I manage to feel something other than dead-“

I’m up and staring at his face.

He scoffs once. “You go and use me.”

The silence falls on us like cold water. The ice runs through my veins to my heart and I’m frozen and somehow boiling at the same time, turning his words in my head while preparing my own, fingers itching to wrap around his shirt and push me towards me or away – I can’t decide.

I’m angry. I’m disappointed. I’m all the things that aren’t good in this world.

But most of all I’m seeing red when I tell him, “Stop victimizing yourself.” I spit the words like he did. Let the poison show again. “Ever since I came here you’ve done nothing but hurt me and humiliate me. You’ve been nothing but a devil in my back ever since Madoc brought me here. I had to bear years and years of you and your friends and your words. You made my life hell for no reason, other than the fact that I was different and thus an easy target to pick on to make yourself feel better, feel something. You,” I prowl to him. “You pull me close and then pull me away because you can’t let go of all the things you’ve been taught to hate. Because you want me but hold a grudge against me. Remind yourself of this, Cardan – you put me down to make yourself feel better. I placed a crown on your head – a crown that was always supposed to be yours, anyways – to protect my brother.” My finger digs itself in his chest. “Tell yourself that. And then weigh our lives in the scales and see which one weighs more.”

“That crown was never mine,” he snarls, low and deadly.

“It was yours, just never guaranteed,” I argue. “I did use you, Cardan. But I did it because it was my only choice. What reasons do you have to hurt me?”

I realize my voice cracks at the last word.

I realize I have tears spilling.

I realize I’m crying in front of Cardan and I don’t know how to stop myself.

I realize I can’t stop myself.

He stares at me.

“What reason,” I push at his chest. “Do you have?”

He doesn’t answer, so I go on, “What reasons do you have for not admitting your feelings? What reasons do you have to kiss me and then act as if you haven’t felt a thing?”

“Jude.”

“Stop saying my name like that,” I tremble and shake. “Just stop.”

He blinks at me, watching me wipe the tears away.

“Jude,” he says again.

I close my eyes, breathe in shakily.

Why does my name on his lips still sound like it could undo me and at the same time put me back together?

Why?

Why?

“Jude,” he whispers.

He’s close.

I open my eyes to see his are closed. I want to push him close. I want his lips on mine. I want him to leave me here and never look at me again.

Cardan isn’t like this.

Cardan doesn’t touch my hand like this.

Doesn’t wipe my tears with his thumb.

Doesn’t look at me like he’s about to break.

“I can’t,” he whispers, eyebrows furrowed.

“You can’t what?”

He touches my cheeks like it’s the first time he’s done it – incredible tenderness. His palms are warm, not cold. His skin is soft as velvet. I close my eyes and let his thumbs wipe the remaining tears off my face.

I wonder who this Cardan is.

The one that leans down and kisses me.

The one who pulls away, just a fraction of a second, to trace my bottom lip with his thumb, licking his lips as if he’s memorizing my taste.

I can’t.

He can’t give me reasons.

He can’t give me his heart.

I shouldn’t want it but I do.

And I know I’ve broken every bone in my body when I lift myself onto my toes and kiss him.

He always tastes the same.

Sour wine and strawberries. I taste him and Cardan breathes in sharply, sliding his hands down to the back of my neck, while my hands wrap around his shoulders.

I should be afraid of his hands on my throat, but he’s already choked any remaining life out of me – I have nothing to fear.

We’re terrible.

We hurt each other.

And I know that, despite my words, I have not been a saint to Cardan. In return, I have said awful things to him. I know I have not been without my own prejudice. I’ve hated his kind for my entire life.

We had both said things neither of us deserved.

We destroyed each other and yet-

We put each other back together.

I feel my wounds stitching when his arms wrap around me. When I feel the warmth of him in that kiss, in that embrace. When I glimpse at the Cardan hidden deep within, the one that could apologize for the childish insults. I want to believe that Cardan.

But I’m afraid that he may only exist in my mind.

He holds my broken bones together as he opens my mouth with his.

He’d told me once he loved Nicasia. In the back of my mind, I wonder if he compares loving her to loving me. I wonder if what he feels for me is somehow stronger, despite what and who she is. Despite what and who I am. A wicked part of me wants it to be.

That’s why I pull him closer. 

Cardan responds by tucking his hands on my lower back, pushing me against his chest while his mouth leads mine in a dance that will surely end in us falling.

All my life I trained to be dangerous. To feel powerful. And yet in Cardan’s arms I feel a new kind of strong, a kind I’ve never felt before, never wanted to feel before.

His coat is on the floor, lost in the tall grass, and my fingers are tangled on the hair on the back of his head. He doesn’t stop. His lips press against mine again, and again, and again, until my lungs hurt, until I can’t feel my legs, until my back is curved underneath his grip and he’s tilting my head back, just so his lips can feel my pulse.

I open my eyes and greet the stars.

I contain a moan when his mouth closes on my throat, but my hands grip his hair on top of his head tighter, and my eyes look down to see the curls and how they wrap around my fingers.

“Cardan,” I start to say.

And I don’t know what I’m about to say, I don’t know why I call his name. I only know that it sounds like the most beautiful word right now.

Cardan’s nose traces my cheek. “Jude.”

He walks me backwards and my back rests against a tree.

I’ve never heard the noise that comes out of me when Cardan picks me up and hoists me against the tree. My hands touch his cheeks instantly, startled by the feel of his hips between my thighs. He looks at me and I look at him. Cardan pulls a strand of hair that sticks on my skin away, his hand coming to rest on my jaw. His thumbs trace distracted circles on my cheek and he’s staring at me as if he wants the world but can’t have it. He looks at me like I’m the last sunset he’ll ever see.

Distracted, I caress his cheeks. Feel the incredible, inhuman softness of his skin, the dark circles under his eyes, the contour of his lips. He has beautiful lips. I want them to belong to me.

I lean down, and kiss him. Pretend they do.

The world has changed for us, these past few months. So, so much.

The proof is here – when I kiss him, it feels different from the first time. Part of it still seems like standing in clear glass a million miles up in the sky, the adrenaline and the rush and the passion is still here, but there is also a new kind of hunger. A desire that sweeps me up and sends me to sleep in the clouds. A wanting that has me clinging to him, that makes me sad, that makes me happy, that makes me worried and makes me relieved. Kissing Cardan feels like the beginning and the end of the world.

He takes my lip between his teeth before pulling back and touching his lips to the corner of mine. Two kisses, two little dots on each side of my mouth.

The fingers in his hair pull his head back.

And my lips are on his neck.

He tastes like dreams.

The good kind, but the ones that don’t feel real. The kind of dreams where you know you’re dreaming, when you know you’re completely out of touch with reality and know perfectly well you’re bound to wake up and make it disappear.

My mouth closes around the place where his neck meets his jaw and his hips rub against mine, as if he can’t help it.

My gasp is shaky, my legs clenching around his hips. Cardan lets his head fall on my shoulder and does it again.

I’m not breathing.

I’m clutching to him, arms around his shoulders and head buried in his neck as he moves me against him, so slow. Now it’s purposeful, because he knows what he’s done, what he ignited in me.

I lift my face and kiss him again.

I don’t know anything else but his body on me and his lips on mine.

When he pulls away to breathe, Cardan is breathless, one hand coming to rest on the trunk right next to my head, and his forehead falls on my chest, like he’s telling himself to gain control again, to keep himself in check. His hips are pinning me to this tree. This is farther than I have ever gone with him. As far as I’ll go.

I touch his cheeks again, make him look at me.

“Cardan,” I say. “Do you love me?”

He closes his eyes as if he’s in pain.

Because he wants to lie and can’t.

“Y-Yes.”

“Can you be with me?”

“No.”

He starts to put me down but his hands stay on me.

And that confirmation lifts a weigh off my chest and, at the same time, sends me crashing and burning.

He looks as if he’ll cry.

“Jude.”

“Let me go, Cardan,” I whisper, lowering my eyes.

Too weak. We’re too weak.

And I have to stay away.

His hands let me go.

But his eyes don’t.

I wonder if his heart ever will.

“Wait-“ He starts. “Where are you going?”

I keep walking – and not to the palace.

“Jude,” he calls.

I close my eyes, tell myself to let him go.

You have to let go.

“No, Jude-“

He sounds as if he’s drowning.

But I can’t let him drown me with him.

So when he turns me to him and tries to hold me, I take his hands and I pull them off me. I don’t have it in me to be harsh anymore. I’m tired. I’ve given all I had for this game. And it’s over.

“Let me go,” I say again.

“Where are you going?” 

“I need to go away for a while.”

“Where-“

“Cardan,” I say.

His eyes snap to me. I don’t know this Cardan. The one that looks as if he’s anguished to see me leaving. He doesn’t insist. 

“I can’t,” I tell him.

The same thing he told me. The same thing I’ll keep hearing.

I untangle myself from him and walk away, leaving him alone in the darkness to go and find my own.


	2. Chapter 2

Cardan

I should be stronger than this, I tell myself as I pour another cup of wine, watching the blood-red liquid swish around in the clear glass. I should be fucking stronger than this.

I down it in one single gulp.

Then I go and rest my head against the dusty wall of the wine cellar, close my eyes, and pretend this fuzzy, dizzy world around me is all I have ever known. Pretend I don’t hear her voice swirling around in my mind like fine wine in a broken bottle.

You drama queen.

I laugh to myself and by myself in the darkness. Yes, yes. Jude would say that, wouldn’t she?

My smile is wiped off my face quickly enough. Jude. Jude.

I sing her name in my mind, or maybe out loud, thinking that if she should ever return, I will make up for every single mistake, every stupid word, every childish argument, by touching her cheeks and kissing her all over.

She has such kissable cheeks.

I kissed her once there – first on the right, then on the left, right in that small beauty mark of hers – and she had smiled. Not like she usually does – not snarky or mean or sarcastic. But a real smile. Filled with shyness and delight and desire. It lightened up her face, her eyes. It only increased the fullness of her already full cheeks, and it only made me want to kiss her more.

I want her to come back to me.

Jude. Jude. Jude.

Did it have to be you?

I grab another bottle. Not bothering to pour the wine into a cup, I simply chug it this time.

Jude. Jude. Jude.

Did you have to crawl your way to my heart?

The darkness drowns me, and the wine finally sinks me.

Jude. Jude. Jude.

Did you have to make me fall for you?

***

Jude

I should be stronger than this.

I had fought, time and time again, to be dangerous. To be worthy. To be strong.

And he ruined it.

Somehow – he’s made me weak. And I don’t like it. Not one bit.

My sisters stare at me strangely as we shop for clothes. I catch Vivi opening her mouth and closing it for the hundredth time, and so I simply decide to say, for the hundredth time, “I’m fine, Viv.”

“You don’t look fine,” Vivi says, trying to sound kind. “You look like crap.”

“Just stressed out.”

“Trying to keep Cardan on the throne, uh?” She muses.

I raise my eyebrows to myself. “You have no idea.”

Vivi watches Oak, but her attention is on my face, so I attempt – attempt – to show nothing. My sister entwines her arm with mine, her voice gentle. “You could come home. With us.”

“You know I can’t do that, Viv,” I tell her, my voice low. 

“Why?” She asks. “You placed a prince on a throne, but that’s not your responsibility-“

“It is my responsibility,” I argue, my steps faltering.

My sister stops walking and stares at me. Oak turns to look over his shoulder, and Vivi smiles at him, “We’ll be right there.” And then she turns to me, lie she’s readying herself to give me a speech. “Jude,” she says in her serious voice. “Come home. You don’t belong there. We don’t belong there.”

But I do, I want to tell her. Despite every awful thing that brought us to Faerie, despite every awful thing that happened afterwards…

It is still my home. A home full of thorns, nonetheless, but still a home.

“It’s not just about that anymore, Vivi.”

She gives me a look full of questions and confusion. I want to sink into the floor. “About what then?” Silence. And then she whispers, “About Cardan?”

“I made a mistake,” I say through gritted teeth. “He didn’t want the throne, Vivi. He’s a mess. I need to make sure that throne stays safe.”

Vivi frowns, like I’ve just told her I would throw myself off a bridge right now. “Jude.”

“I have to go make things right,” I tell her. Gently, I take her hands. “I just needed a break from everything.”

“You needed a break from him.”

I see what she’s trying to hint that. The question she wants me to answer. 

But I cannot.

Not yet.

I breathe in. “Vivi,” I tell her gently. “I have to go.”

She looks down, defeated. “I know you’re doing this to protect Oak,” she tells me. “But know that he’s safe here, Jude. If only you-“

“He will not be safe forever,” I murmur, looking away. I catch Oak’s smile, the shining eyes, the pure happiness on his face. I force a smile for his sake. And look to Viv again. “Let me do this until it is safe. And then I’ll come back.”

She sighs. “He hurt you your whole life. And still,” she smiles bitterly. “And still you wish to go back to help him.”

I must looked shocked for a second, for Vivi scoffs and tells me, “Honestly, Jude? I know – I know you’re doing everything you can to protect Oak’s throne. But there’s also a part of you, and I don’t know how small that part is, that wishes to go back and help him. Don’t deny it.”

“How is that so wrong?” I whisper.

Vivi widens her eyes, shaking her head. “Because he hurt you.”

And that’s when it hits me.

It hits me like a slap in the face. Sudden, unexpected, and harsh.

Cardan has hurt me. But I’ve hurt him back just as much. If not more. With every word, every insult, he threw my way, every look of disgust and annoyance – I did the exact same thing to him. I could blame him for the hurt he has caused me over the years, but I also had to blame myself.

I have to blame myself for betraying him.

“We hurt each other,” I conclude.

“It doesn’t make it okay.”

“No, it doesn’t,” I sigh. “We both made mistakes, Viv. It’s time I apologize for mine.”

My sister grips my hands tighter. “Come back to us soon.” And then she dares a grin. “And give him hell, sister.”

I smile at her. And then we join the others, as if nothing happened. But while we’re walking, with Oak standing by my side, his hand around mine, and Vivi’s lingering eyes on me, I can’t help but think to myself, Oh, Viv. I have already given him hell.

***

When I arrive, Cardan is nowhere to be seen.

The servants are worried, running around like headless chickens, guards with swords at the ready, positioned to look for their king. But they wouldn’t know where to search, where to even start.

But I do.

I’m halfway down the steps that lead to the damp, dark wine cellar when I hear him. He’s humming to himself, a sad, lonely tune I have never heard, but one that sounds beautiful coming from him; even in his drunken voice. I hear the glass clinking to the floor, as if he’s setting a rhythm. His low murmurs echo in these walls, and I’m suddenly afraid.

I thought I was done with being scared.

But as I lean against the wall, three steps ahead of me, just three steps that will lead me to him, I falter. And I hesitate.

Cardan, do you love me?

Yes.

Can you be with me?

No.

The lines echo in my mind as I listen to him, as I wait for the moment when bravery will finally come to me, as I wait for the moment when I’m capable to face the mess that is this wicked king. I close my eyes, I breathe in. Once. Twice. His song stops, and I’m moving.

His shirt is unbuttoned, like he’d gotten too hot in this stuffy cellar. His curls are tangled together, falling on his forehead, creating a shadow over his eyes – those dark eyes, so cruel and cunning, so beautiful and terrible – and, from the look of it, he’s spilled liquor all over his expensive shirt.

My heart is aching. I want it to stop – I want to stop his claws from clinging to my heart. I want his arms around me. I want his eyes to stop haunting me. I want his hands all over me. I want-

What do you want, Jude?

I want everything and I want nothing.

“Cardan,” I say.

And he’s looking up, lips parted, glitter smudged all over his cheeks – as if he’s been crying. A dark part of me, buried deep within, smiles at that. Good. Good. Let him suffer. Let him regret breaking your heart. But overall I just want to sit next to him and wrap him in my arms. Tell him I understand. Tell him I know what he’s been through. Tell him I know what it feels like to want the person you thought you hated most in the world. Tell him I know – because I, too, don’t know how to deal with this amount of feeling.

I don’t know how I can un-love Cardan.

I don’t know if I want to.

Because the thing about love is just that: no matter how badly it hurts, no matter how tough and difficult it gets, your blood, your heart, your very bones still want it. Very much so. Your whole being wants to feel it.

But I’m not sure how much more of this Cardan and I can take. I’m not sure how much longer we can keep doing this to each other.

He looks at me like I’ve tore him apart.

You did the same to me, Cardan.

“You came back.” He says it with disdain. Sarcasm. Smiling like he’s just tasted the most bitter of coffees.

“Someone has to take care of you, it seems,” is my reply.

Cardan scoffs. “Go away.” He tips a bottle of white wine to his mouth, and I watch as a line drips from his lips down to his jaw. He slurs, “As you can clearly see – I’m busy.”

“Your people have been looking for you all over.”

Cardan laughs. “I’ve been looking for you all over. For days. And I couldn’t find you. I couldn’t fucking find you.” He sips again, and looks away from me. I can tell he’s reached a tipping point. Maybe I have, too. So I just let him talk. “And the worst part was that I couldn’t sleep. I couldn’t eat. And I kept thinking – I kept dreaming that you were dead somewhere. You mortals are so breakable that a gust of wind might have taken you. And then-“

Then he would be left alone.

My eyes lower. I whisper, “Cardan-“

“Don’t say my name like that,” he holds out a hand to shush me. “Because when you say my name like that Jude…”

I’m surprised at how gracefully he stands even after drinking himself to death. But then again – Cardan has practise with drinking. Still, he leans against the wall. Eyes closed. I can see his chest rising and falling, and he’s never looked so human to me before. If it weren’t for the sheer, imperfect, flawless beauty of him, the pointy ears and the tail I wouldn’t have known the difference.

He stares at me.

“Why did you have to go,” he whispers.

“You know why.”

“I can’t change things, Jude.”

I swallow, despite myself. I swallow all the words I want to shout at him. Because I know they’re unfair, and they’re just going to hurt him more. And hurt me in the process. So instead I gather my thoughts, clear my mind, and I say, “Let me get you back to your chambers.”

“No.”

“You’re being a brat.”

“I’m not the one who ran away.”

“I’m not the one who’s too weak to give in to his feelings,” I blurt out, suddenly boiling. 

This, this rise in my blood – this is what me and Cardan are all about. This is what makes my heart race.

The blow lands where it should, clearly, for Cardan takes a step back.

“You,” he says, lip quivering with rage. I cross my arms over my chest, waiting for the cannonball to land in my court. “You left me here,” he points to the ground, eyes like fire. “Youbetrayed me.” He corners me against a wall and I let him, chin raised high, my fire meeting his. “You made me into a king and trapped me in that throne. You made me love you and now-”

I’m without words as Cardan lets his head fall. His arms shake, and I feel his hands on either side of my head clench. I’m without words as Cardan bursts out crying.

I’m without words as he whispers, so brokenly, “You trapped me here.”

“I did not do it to hurt you,” I tell him. “You know that.”

He shakes his head, sniffing. “But this is the fate I deserve isn’t it? This is where I should be.”

When he meets my eyes, I’m surprised to see such sorrow in them. Maybe it’s because of the drink, or maybe it’s other unfathomable reason that I can’t name, that makes Cardan speak so clearly, show so much. When his eyes trace my lips, when they look up into my own, I’m surprised to feel-

To feel so much. All at once.

What have we done?

“You can redeem yourself by being a good king, Cardan,” I say, touching the front of his shirt. I grip it with my fingers, almost shaking him, forcing him to see. “We are not children anymore. I had to protect my brother. And you have to be king.”

He smiles. It’s sad and broken, as all beautiful things are. “And I have to rule,” he nods, as if thinking and speaking to himself. “Rule without you.”

I let out a breath. “You’re lonely because you want to, Cardan.” My hands leave his soaked shirt, and I drop them to my side. “I’m here. I was here. Until you decided you couldn’t be with me.” And because I can’t stop myself, I say, “Because to you – to you I’m just a mortal. A mortal who had the audacity to make you feel for the first time in ages. A mortal who, for some unknown reason, got you attached.”

He stares at me as if he can’t understand me.

And I’m suddenly confused by his confusion.

“You don’t remember? The night I left?” I furrow my eyebrows. “What you said to me?”

I can’t.

He speaks slowly, still confused, “I do.”

I close my eyes, shaking my head hopelessly. “I’m not worth it, right? I’m a second of your entire life.”

Cardan doesn’t respond. He stares. And he stares. Suddenly ashamed, suddenly frustrated, I pull away from his arms.

And then he says, “Is that what you think?”

I frown. “That’s what you said.”

“I never said I didn’t want to be with you because of what you were.”

There’s a heavy, hopeful silence between us. I don’t like the spark that ignites at his words. I don’t like that skip in the otherwise steady beating of my heart. I don’t like that Cardan is staring at me as if what I just said is absolutely ludicrous.

“You believe,” he murmurs, walking towards me. I refrain from walking to him in response, and just stay planted where I am. “You seriously believe, that that’s the reason why I said I can’t be with you? Jude.”

“Don’t you say my name like that,” I warn.

He wipes his eyes, the glitter comes off, and there’s a hint of a crazy smile on him.

“You were raised to hate me,” I remind him.

“And I did,” he nods. “I did.” He stops, and we are exactly one step apart. “I hated you for being mortal – because being mortal meant that you could go off into your own little world and leave all this,” he gestures. “I hated you because I wanted to be you. I hated you because I didn’t know any better. I hate you because you were beautiful and I desired you, and when you hated me back, I hated you because of it. I hated you because there was nothing more in the world I wanted but to hear you say my name without any insult attached to it, and I knew that that chance was slim. I hated you, Jude,” he says, and his voice is honey coated, smooth and rough around the edges, and I want to hear it against my ear. “I hated you so much that I began to love you.”

I’m shaking, I realize.

And not from the cold, not from fear or doubt or hesitance or anything else other than the physical need of wanting to be close to him.

Ground yourself. Remind yourself why you’re here.

“What’s the reason.”

Not a question – a demand.

Because my first instinct is to doubt that he’s changed his mind. To doubt that he could ever deviate his thoughts from the ones his kind planted in him since childhood. To doubt that I would ever be anything else other than a species he finds inferior.

But looking at him – I’m finding it hard to doubt him. The way his eyes lower to my lips, his mouth parted, makes me think that maybe he never really did find me inferior. Maybe he did always want to have the same freedom I had.

“What?” He murmurs to my lips.

“What’s the reason,” I say to his own lips, “for not wanting to be with me.”

“You’re wrong again,” he wiggles a finger at me. “I want you. Desperately. Every hour of the day. I want you so much I can barely breathe when you stand so close. It’s not a question of want, Jude. It’s a question of not being able to.”

I ignore the flush that rises in my neck, in my cheeks.

“So?”

He leans against the wall again, like he needs the support to stand again. I watch him watching me, my brain making me see myself in his arms, his lips on mine, his hands clinging to my thighs as he-

“So?” I repeat, my voice firmer.

And when he speaks again, he’s calmer. More human than I expected. But then again, Cardan usually surprised me with how human he could be at times. His voice doesn’t echo anymore, it’s slow and soft, grim and still laced with alcohol. “Look at me,” he says.

I do.

I watch him from head to toe.

“I don’t know how to make you happy, Jude,” he tells me. “This,” he points at himself, “was not made for you. And your life is too short for you to waste time on this. It’s too short for you not to get a love story worth telling. This isn’t worth telling. I’m broken in ways you don’t even know. I’ve already lost a love once and I didn’t know how to cope with that. I lost everything. I am lost.” He smiles, like he’s finding it horribly funny how he’s letting himself say all of this, so clearly, so truthfully, so openly. “I will definitely regret saying this in the morning.” He chuckles, but it’s a dry laugh. There’s no humour in it.

The words lace themselves inside me. Colourful ribbons wrapping around my heart.

He does not find himself worthy.

Of me.

Months ago, this Cardan would’ve never existed. Months ago, when everything was the way it was, he would’ve never said this to me. Cardan is mean jokes laced with sarcasm and snide remarks. Cardan is hard looks and sneers and smirks. Not this. Cardan is not this.

But maybe he is.

I take a step toward him. It startles him. I see it in his face that he expected me to laugh and walk away. I see it in the way that his eyes search mine, his fake amusement gone, that he did not expect me to stay. He would’ve never expected me to stay.

This Cardan.

I want this Cardan.

The version of himself that he hates. The version of himself that he thinks is weak, that he thinks should be destroyed or hidden behind layers and layers of cruelty and wickedness.

The Cardan that looks sorry for all the things he’s done and said. 

The Cardan that breathes hard when I come close.

The Cardan whose tail becomes stiff when I place my hands in his chest.

I say harshly, “Do you love me?”

Cardan’s eyes search for me. “Yes.”

I swallow. I forget everything I’m meant to do. I forget who I am. Who I’m supposed to be – the person I’ve forced myself to be. Turns out Cardan’s not the only one with layers. “I don’t care that you’re lost,” I tell him, my hands rising to touch his cheeks. I want him to look at me. I want him to understand. “I’m not lost. I can lead the way for both of us.”

His body gentles down and relaxes. His lips part, and he’s not the mean boy anymore. He’s a man whose childhood was taken away from him, despite his many privileges. He’s a man whose life was decided for him from day one.

“We’re not so different you and I,” I whisper to him.

The air changes considerably.

The dampness becomes sweat sliding down my neck, my back. The cold becomes hot shivers because his arms are embracing me and pulling me close.

Cardan is silent. I feel him process the fact that I did not leave.

As different as can be and yet – so, so similar.

The question remains – whether or not we can simply be without breaking each other. I see it in his eyes, the way they reflect mine – the doubt, the hesitance, the fear.

We are so terrified.

“I know I was the one that trapped you,” I say. “But I can help you. For that, Cardan,” his body trembles as my name leaves his lips, and I’m suddenly so fascinated that I almost forget to speak, “I need you to work with me and not against me. I need us to work together.”

Cardan is silent, turning the words in his mind. His jaw clenches and unclenches, and I feel his arms wrap around me tighter, possessive in a gentle way – like he’s just now trying to make sense of it all in his head. How to want me. How to need me close. How to be in love and not feel as if it’s going to be taken from him.

He looks down at my lips as he speaks, ashamed to meet my eyes. “I’m an asshole.”

I have to laugh. It’s unexpected, like a sudden ray of sunshine in the middle of a rainy day. But the way he says it, too-

It leaves my mouth before I can stop it.

And Cardan stares at me until he, too, is smiling. It’s silly, so silly, but I trace the smile on his face with my thumb. With no hurries, I let my heart win. And as my thumb traces the contours of his perfect lips I say, “Yes, yes, you are.”

Cardan rolls his eyes, “Well – you haven’t been perfect either.”

And we’re both smiling.

“No, I haven’t,” I say.

“Can we change?” Cardan asks, his words slurring.

I hesitate “Do you want to change?”

“For you?” He asks. “I would even change my hair.”

I raise my eyebrows at him.

He shrugs. “I really like my hair.”

“You wouldn’t like it now. Hopefully we won’t pass a mirror or you might as well have a heart attack. As vain as you are.”

Cardan pulls me close and my heart is beating out of my chest. “Now, Jude.” He drags my name in his drunkenness, though I’ve never seen Cardan this awake, sober. Like the alcohol has a contrary effect on him than it does to humans. “What did we agree just now? Changing also means not being mean to Cardan.”

“I’m not being mean,” I shoot back. “I’m merely stating facts.”

“That are mean,” Cardan adds.

“Only to you. Because you know they’re true facts.”

“Smart mouth,” he says, and drags his thumb along my bottom lip.

The air leaves my lungs at that gesture alone. I want to take his chin and see how many combinations of wine I can taste on his tongue, but I collect myself – with a huge amount of difficulty – and abandon his arms.

Cardan looks like I’ve just taken away his candy.

“The sun is going up,” I tell him. “You need sleep.”

“You’re not my parent.”

“No,” I grin, flashing my teeth. “I’m your queen. I order you to go to bed.”

Cardan’s eyebrows shoot up, delight crossing his eyes, his features, as he eyes me up and down. “My queen, you say?”

“I rule behind the scenes, in your place.” Shrugging, I turn to the stairs. “Might as well give myself a worthy title. I certainly deserve it for putting up with you.”

He smirks. Bows low at the waist. “My Queen.” 

It’s so ridiculous that I shake my head at him. “Come on, King.”

He stumbles next to me, grinning stupidly, but manages to make his way up the stairs without breaking his head. Or mine.

***

“Your servants and guards know I’m here,” I tell him, trying not to watch him come out of his bathing room with only a towel around his waist. I had to drag him inside his chambers, literallypush him in, for Cardan was making a fool of himself outside. It was funny to watch until he tried to fight one of his guards by stealing his sword, almost cutting the poor man’s head off.

He’s told me to wait, so I’m sitting at the end of his bed, arms crossed, looking around the room. Just to make sure he makes it to bed and falls asleep and doesn’t attempt to behead anyone.

“I’m going to go,” I tell him, lifting myself off the comfortable mattress.

“Why?”

“Why? Because they’ll think-“

My cheeks heat as Cardan flashes me a smirk over his shoulder. I can’t help but trail my eyes over the scars on his back. They’re faint, healed by fae herbs and by time, but the lines suddenly make me see red, and I’m surprised to find myself wanting to kiss them.

I turn my face away.

But not in time to see Cardan’s towel fall to the floor.

My first reaction is to ogle, but my eyes stay fixed on a painting of tulips on the far end of the wall. I cough, my words getting lost in my throat. He’s so well sculpted. Muscly, but not buff. Elegant, but not exactly thin. And the tail-

I close my eyes, turn my body away from him.

Don’t you look at that backside, Jude. Don’t you-

I hear his steps. I swallow. “Put some clothes on, Cardan.”

“I sleep naked,” he grins. “You can look now, if you want.”

And I only do because I hear him getting inside the bed sheets.

I shake my head at him. “You’re insufferable.”

“But you like me.”

“I have depraved tastes.”

The stolen line makes him smile. He smells like lavender.

“We both seem to have depraved tastes.”

“It seems we do.”

Cardan fixes me with a look, and extends a hand.

I raise my eyebrows at him. “I’m not laying down next to.”

“I didn’t invite you to,” he shoots back.

With a snort, I take his hand rather warily. I want that warmth of his to forever tingle my skin. Gently, Cardan eases me down on the edge of the bed, with me facing him.

“I can’t be here,” I tell him, not feeling one bit inclined to move.

He entwines our fingers and just stares at me.

He’s tired.

I can’t help it. I can’t. I reach over and push his dark curls away from his eyes, the way I’d done several times before when I’d kissed him, and watched him close his eyes, his hand squeezing mine.

How things change.

How did we even get here?

I can’t seem to remember. I can’t seem to want to remember.

Carefully, my thumb traces the dark circles under his eyes, my palm against his cheek. Cardan opens his tired eyes and stares.

I stare right back.

“We’re terrible for each other,” I muse out loud.

“Maybe,” he says, his voice rough from exhaustion. “Maybe that’s what makes us so perfect for each other.”

My heart jolts. “That doesn’t make any sense.”

“You don’t make any sense.”

We’re smiling.

I want to know more of this Cardan.

“Let’s not hurt each other anymore,” I tell him.

“Yes,” Cardan says, a corner of his mouth lifting. “I’d rather be doing other things.”

My face heats. “Oh?”

“I miss your lips.”

I miss his.

Cardan sits up, eyes intent on my lips, but I gently pull away. He looks at me, cocking his head to the side, and the cream sheets fall dangerously close to his middle. I squeeze his hand. “You have to earn it.”

“I have to earn it.”

I nod.

“Alright,” he smiles, challenging. His eyes flash with something simultaneously wicked and soft. “I’ll earn it.” Then his voice is a whisper, meant for me, just for me. “By apologizing, for my asshole-ness. By trying to make it up to you.” His smile fades, and he’s now in a world of his own, staring at my hand, the hand that holds him, lost in thought. “By trying to make you happy.”

My heart skips a beat.

I take his chin before I know what I’m doing.

Cardan’s eyes snap to me.

And I lean in, slow, and I touch my lips to his.

Just a press of my mouth against his, and Cardan breathes in sharply, touching my cheeks. Like he always does. He lets me lead, lets me pull away to breathe and leave soft, gentle pecks on his mouth.

I want you. Desperately. Every hour of the day. I want you so much I can barely breathe when you stand so close.

The words come as warning bells in my head.

When Cardan presses his lips to mine fully, I place a hand on his chest and push him down gently, my heart erratic in my chest. He stares up at me with pink lips and I want nothing more than to hold him.

“Stay,” he says, his voice hoarse.

His thumb traces the back of my hand.

We stare at each other.

I let go of his hand and lean my elbows on his chest, leaning into him. I touch my lips to his forehead, before looking down at him, my nose touching his. “If you remember this tomorrow,” I whisper, “I will stay.” 

He nudges my nose with his, attempting to catch my lips, but I pull away.

Cardan sighs, reaching for my hand. He kisses the back of it, and I catch a glimpse of a sharp fang as he smiles against my skin, as he kisses each one of my claws. Wicked. So wicked.

“Sleep well,” he purrs. “My Queen.”

I pull my hand away from him, smiling to myself. I don’t turn back as I walk out the door, but I feel his eyes on my with every step I take, until I’ve disappeared from his sight. And even when I lean against the door of his chambers, flushed and breathless, I swear I can feel his gaze through the wood.

Before anyone catches me, I walk to my own chambers, shaking my head to myself, shaking the memory of his warm, soft lips against my own, against my skin. Try not to recall the image of his body as the towel dropped.

I watch the sun rise as I fall on my bed, exhausted and exhilarated.

Me and him – we still have a lot to work through. We still have a lot of mistakes to make up for.

But this is a start, I think to myself.

When I lay my head on my pillow, I can think that I want to know more about this Cardan.

I just hope he’s there tomorrow.

***

The next time I wake, I don’t see him all night.

He’s ordered for another party, it seems. My eyes are fixed on the servants that hang the twinkling lights, then pass over the vines entwining in the pillars of the great hall, the long table being settled. Nicasia stands alone, twirling a blue rose in her hand like she wants to smash it. I have never seen her this angry, I realize. It’s a look on her.

Even though I have no clue what that’s about, a huge part of me is still pleased at the angry frown she sends my way. Smiling, and suddenly feeling cheered up, I go about my day and duties.

The Court of Shadows reunites every once in a while. Precautions are necessary, especially with Cardan on the throne. And I find myself enjoying my time with them. It distracts me from the chaos of the High Court, makes me feel normal in a world that is the complete opposite of normal. I call them my friends now, and I think of them as such.

When the sun is still hours away and the night is at its darkest, I make my way to his chambers with reports in my hands – which I quickly show the guards that stand at the end of his corridor. They let me through, eyeing each other, and I don’t ask what that look is about. This isn’t strange – I’ve been handing Cardan the reports he’s supposed to do every month.

My cheeks heat nonetheless.

He opens the door before I get to knock.

He’s smelled me and heard me from a mile away, clearly.

He’s not dressed for dinner yet, which is strange. I would’ve expected him to be trying on all the clothes and fancy shoes he owns hours before. I’m almost about to tell him that when I catch sight of papers on his desk.

A desk that I never seen him use.

“Your reports,” I push my papers into his chest, surprise coating my features as I stare at the scattered pieces of paper and ink on the desk. “Are those-“

“Reports,” Cardan says, his hand dragging over mine as he takes them. He looks proud of himself.

“You’ve done them?” I ask, confused and startled.

Cardan looks offended now. He tells me as much. “I am highly offended, Jude.”

I raise an eyebrow. “You could have told me,” I gesture. “I spent quite a bit of time on those.” I point at the ones he’s holding.

He places them on his dresser, smiling amusedly. “Maybe I wanted to surprise you.”

I approach his desk, grabbing the papers. His handwriting is perfect (I’m a bit jealous how perfect it is, how much better than mine it is), and there are pages and pages regarding the state of his kingdom. A map is spread out beneath them, and several other annotations in different coloured ink right beside it.

“You actually did them.”

I don’t notice his closeness until he speaks. “I thought we had a deal.”

I turn. Slow. “A deal?”

“It seems it is you who forgot,” he raises an accusing eyebrow at me.

By trying to make it up to you.

I realize I’ve never seen Cardan dressed so…simply. He wears one of his white shirts, but this one is simple, casual, without frills or jewels. His trousers are a soft beige, hugging his body but not tight, seemingly comfortable. He’s wearing slippers.

Slippers.

And his tail is out.

I try not to watch its back and forth motions, and look up at him instead. “I didn’t forget.”

Cardan grins mischievously. “Good.”

And he leans down to kiss me.

I let the pages fall from my hands and wrap my arms around his shoulders. My mind goes blank the moment his arms circle my waist, his body against mine, his smirk widening against my lips as he feels me respond to him.

If you remember this tomorrow, I’ll stay.

My body trembles when his tongue traces my bottom lip, and the warmth of him digs itself in my bones. It wraps me up and embraces me – a safe place for me to rest.

I squeal slightly when I feel his hands on my thighs, gripping the skirts of my dress, before gently lifting me onto the desk. My legs part to make space for him, but suddenly Cardan leaves my lips cold and my body colder by stepping away.

I stare at him as he smiles.

I remember where I am.

But before I manage to feel flustered, Cardan says, “I need you there tonight.”

“For…?”

“Dinner.”

“The party you’re throwing?” I ask, crossing my arms. “Isn’t it like the third one this week?”

“Don’t be boring, Jude,” he scowls. “I deserve it,” he says, and gestures to the unorganized papers on his desk.

“Why do you need me there?”

He grins like a snake. “I have a surprise.”

“I never liked surprises,” I tell him. “Certainly not from you.”

Cardan takes my chin between two fingers and lifts it to him. From my peripheral vision, I see his tail wagging back and forth. “This one you’ll like,” he says, before dipping his head and pecking my lips. “Promise.”

I watch him warily as Cardan gathers all his papers and organizes them into a neat pile.

I don’t know what to make of him. What to make of us. Getting along and all that.

It’s weird and amazing.

He seems distracted, making sure everything is clean and organized, and I’m sitting at his desk watching him, and Cardan just seems content to have me here for company. Like we used to do. Less the insults and the coffee and the fighting.

I know it isn’t over. We are not going to change overnight but-

But this is nice for a change.

“Cardan,” I ask slowly.

He looks at me, his tail stopping, attentive.

“Why was Nicasia glaring daggers at me today?”

Cardan blinks, and I see something in his face I don’t like.

It’s the face he makes when he wants to lie and realizes he can’t.

“She’s always glaring at you.”

I frown. “She did it with purpose today.”

Cardan places his hands on his desk next to me. I’m suddenly scared.

It’s a dreadful feeling, after everything we shared, every word we told each other.

But then he sighs and says, “She was here.”

There’s a heavy rock in my throat and I can’t swallow it down. “She was here.”

Cardan nods. “Long story short – I denied her,” he says, surprisingly annoyed. Like he’d rather be talking about someone else.

“She came to you? I mean – back to you?”

He looks pissed. But my heart isn’t calm. I hate this version of myself.

“Out of the fucking blue,” he tells me. “After everything-“ He scoffs, looks to me. “Whatever.”

“You just denied her?”

Cardan looks confused. “What else would I do?”

I’m silenced. And then it dawns on him. I can see the realization hit him slowly, but he doesn’t have the reaction I thought he’d have.

He smiles. “You’re jealous, Jude?”

I frown at him. “No.”

He swears under his breath. “You are,” he moves towards me, steps in between my legs again. “Oh, Jude,” he smiles wider and I don’t like it. I don’t like feeling like this. I swat his hand away when he tries to touch my cheek. It makes him smile wider. “You thought I’d taken her into my bed?”

“No,” I mumble. Like a child.

If you had, she wouldn’t have looked so pissed.

And then it dawns on me. “Did you tell her?”

“About me and you?” He smirks, wrapping his arms around him. He’s playful – I can tell by the wagging of his tail, by the gleam in his eyes. “Oh, darling, yes. All about it.”

I widen my eyes at him. “She’ll choke me in my sleep.”

Cardan rolls his eyes.

I realize what he’s done. And I’m shaken, “Did you just lie?”

He chuckles, “No, Jude. I used sarcasm. It’s not lying.” And then, so gently, he places a kiss on my cheek. And then another, on my other cheek. He’s done this before, and I remember it, he remembers it. “I didn’t tell her. I didn’t know what you wanted, so I kept my mouth shut. I simply told her, very clearly, that I did not want her in any way, shape or form.” He pulls away slight. Looks at me in the eye. “She either guessed it or simply decided to throw her wrath your way.”

He can’t lie.

I have to keep reminding myself of that, because his words seem too good. But he can’t lie. He denied her. He does not want her. The part of him that loved her is gone. I know that by the way his eyes stay on me, firm and soft and cheeky in the way that Cardan always is to some degree.

I don’t know how to deal with the bubbly, giddy joy that’s suddenly gone to my head so I just blurt out, “I can’t believe you have the capacity to be thoughtful.”

Cardan pins me down with a look. “You’re making it very difficult not to bicker with you.”

I grin.

Cardan grins with me. “Smart mouth,” he says.

We’re silent, staring at each other.

And then his gaze changes.

It’s heavy, laced with feelings I have never seen in him. Intense, too. It burns me all over, causes goose bumps all over my arms. I find I can’t bear it, so I distract myself by observing his tail that’s suddenly gone very, very still.

Without thinking, I reach out and touch the fluffy end.

Cardan watches me, surprise in every feature. And then he’s leaning into me as I stroke the soft hair, marvelling in the texture. It’s not like any type of fur that I’ve touched, it’s softer somehow, exactly like what clouds must feel like.

My hand goes down, curious.

Cardan pulls his tail away with a loud cough.

I look up and watch him redden.

He’s blushing.

He clears his throat, “It’s uh-“ He looks for the word. “Sensitive.”

“Sensitive how?”

He’s out of words, and I can’t believe I’ve made him speechless. I can’t believe myself.

Cardan turns his head, “Sensitive like…” and he’s looking at me, then down at my neck, as if waiting for me to pull away. But I’m frozen by his eyes, by his warmth against me, and I can’t move. I can’t move. And I don’t want to move. Not as Cardan leans down and touches his lips to my neck. I’m seeing stars, bright colours behind my closed eyelids as he sucks on that spot, making my body tremble, making me pull him closer to me. My breath hitches as he pulls his mouth away and whispers against my ear, “Like this.”

When I open my eyes, Cardan is staring at me.

And I want to ask him to do it again. But my voice doesn’t work. So I just drag my eyes down to his collarbones, and the upper part of his chest that is visible because of the undone top buttons of his shirt.

I’m not entirely myself when I touch his shirt and lean in, placing a kiss on the soft skin. I feel his heartbeat, strong and assured, increase the moment my lips drag up, toward the bottom of his throat. I feel him close his eyes, and I’m surprised to find my hands steady as I undo one more button, exposing more of his chest to me. Cardan doesn’t stop me when I lean in again and drag my lips back down, right to that stop I just revealed. My lips linger. When I look up, I’m delighted to find that Cardan looks positively flushed. “Like this?” I murmur.

It’s a dangerous line to cross.

This is dangerous, dangerous territory, I remind myself.

But as Cardan smiles, it doesn’t feel dangerous at all.

Thinking back to everything me and him went through these past few months, it does not seem dangerous at all to love and want him.

He lets out a breath that sounds like a laugh, and nods, “Exactly like that.”

His voice can undo me completely.

Cardan watches my hands drag down his chest over his chest, my hands coming to rest on his waist. I can almost hear his heart beating in time with mine as he places the palm of his hand directly on my neck, right over my pulse. He feels it for a moment, and I’m sure he can hear it too, even from a distance. And then Cardan watches my eyes intently, before sliding his hand down my throat, passing my collarbones.

I see what he’s doing then, when his hand stops, when he looks up at me, his gaze careful and curious and…something else. Something I can’t quite name yet. I see that he’s asking me.

With my gaze fixed on his, I dip my chin – a mock of a nod, though Cardan understands me all the same.

His hand drags down.

And my breath comes out ragged when he palms my breast over my dress, his thumb gently tracing my nipple. “Like this,” he murmurs.

I feel my eyes fluttering closed against my will. I feel my composure running away to be somewhere else that isn’t here. I feel myself getting lost in him more and more.

I bring his lips down to mine.

He touches my waist, bringing me closer to him.

And his mouth opens mine.

It’s a kiss I will not forget for a long, long time. Cardan kisses me like he’s never kissed me before – like he has unleashed himself. I feel like a stream, rushing and twisting and fighting its way back to the endless sea of mysteries that is this Cardan that holds me now. That kisses me with a passion I would never know with someone else.

When he pulls away, I realize I’ve wrapped my arms and legs around him, and I’m clinging to him. He rests his brow against mine, breathless, grinning. And I don’t want to part with him, not now. Not when my body sings for him. But-

“Cardan.”

He kisses me when he hears his name.

I’m breathless when I pull away, touching his cheeks.

“Do you want to stop?” The way he whispers it, too, sends a flaming spark up my spine.

“No,” I breathe against him. My thumb closes his lips, preventing them from destroying me. “But I think we might have to.”

“Why?” He asks, and I’m distracted when I feel him playfully nibbling on my ear. “I love this,” he whispers, tracing the round shape of my ear with his thumb. “Do you know I once dreamed I was biting them? Like this?” He takes my ear between his teeth, so gently, and I want to moan.

“Your party,” I remind him, craning my neck so he has better access.

I’m faintly aware of the cunning fingers playing with the laces of my dress, undoing them one by one.

“We’ll get there,” he says, head buried in my neck, lips tasting my throat.

And I can’t help it – I jolt slightly, so surprised by the feel of his sharp teeth dragging against my skin that I accidentally rub against him.

I have never heard Cardan moan out loud.

But it’s one of the most beautiful sounds. It sends my body shivering. Makes me want to do many other things to him to provoke that sound again. And I don’t know this fire inside me, don’t know how to put it out with his lips and hands on me, but I do know that I want it to consume me.

“Guards outside your door,” I manage to blurt out as Cardan lifts me and carries me to his bed, where he lies me gently. I watch him lean over me, arms on either side of my head, his smile teasing. It’s such a Cardan kind of smile that I have to kiss him, forgetting my own words.

Cardan mumbles against my mouth, “Fuck’em.”

And I know I’m gone.

And I know I couldn’t care less about parties and guards and the whole world knowing when Cardan undoes the final ribbon on my dress. My heart is beating frantically in my chest, and I feel it in my throat, in my head. But I want him.

I want him.

I’m very aware that I’ve never gone this far with anyone. I’m very aware of the fact that Cardan probably has. I wait for the embarrassment to come, the doubt, the fear – but it never does.

A laugh forms itself inside my chest when Cardan struggles to pull my bodice free. And I chuckle aloud at watching him cock his head from side to side, trying to understand the complexity of my clothes. I lay back and grin, observing him.

“Do you want any help with that?” I ask smugly.

“No,” he says, stubborn as a child.

His fingers twist and palm and pinch (making me squirm with tickles in the process), but he’s getting nowhere.

“Let me,” I tell him, raising my arms.

But Cardan pins them down on either side of me and pecks my lips. “I’ll do it,” he insists.

I see the frustration in him growing, until I say, while attempting to stop another laugh, “From the back, Cardan.”

“Ah,” he says, “Turn around for me, then.”

The words make me burn.

I turn in his arms, burying my blushing face into the pillow. It smells like him.

Cardan pulls a zip free, and the buttons at my lower back, opening up my dress. I feel cold and warm and impatient as he undresses me. He’s slow, and I know he’s doing it on purpose.

“Cardan.”

“Patience is a virtue, lovely Jude, haven’t you heard that?”

Bastard.

I tell him as much – and he chuckles.

When I feel his lips drag down my back, my eyes close on their own. And neither the cold nor my body being exposed to him bothers me. Not even when I hear my dress thumping to the ground. All that’s left is one piece.

Cardan touches his lips to my lower back. He touches the soft fabric, wraps two fingers on each side, and murmurs against my skin, “Lift up for me, Jude.”

And I do, letting him drag my underwear down my legs.

I suddenly hear a chuckle from behind me. I turn my face and watch him observe my underwear. I’m dying all of a sudden.

“How cute,” he muses, turning them over this way and that. “How very Jude.”

I dig my face in the pillow, and blurt out a mumbled, “Oh, stop. Please.”

He’s still watching them. “I have never seen anything like this before.”

“Cardan, please-“

“Are these supposed to be ducks?”

“Yes.”

“Ducks aren’t yellow.”

“They’re ducklings,” I tell him, horrified. “Ducklings are yellow.”

“Not mustard yellow.”

I huff into the sheets.

I’m butt naked.

In Cardan’s bed.

Arguing about the ducks on my underwear.

“I wasn’t aware this was going to happen,” I say. “I would’ve worn-”

“I like them,” he decides. Then I feel his body lean over mine, the warmth of him against me. “I’m curious to see what other badly-coloured animals you have on your underwear drawer.”

“I will push you off this bed right now.”

He laughs against my ear, teasing and sultry. “Turn around,” he begs. “Let me see you.”

Biting my lip, I turn, trapped by his arms on either side of me. Cardan’s gaze makes my cheeks burn with something else other than embarrassment as it shifts around my body. I can’t read him. But his lips part as his eyes trace the contours of my form, the shape of hips, the roundness of my thighs and breasts.

And, despite it all, in the back of my mind there’s a nagging voice.

Fae are perfect. Nicasia is perfect. There mustn’t have been a single imperfection on their bodies. But mine has. Several. Badly healed scars, freckles everywhere dotting my skin, stretch marks from my too-quick growth-

And I know it’s idiotic. And I know it’s not right. But I still wrap my arms around myself, eyes looking away. But Cardan touches my hands and entwines our fingers. Slowly, he unravels me again, and I’m bare, so bare, in front of him.

“What’s wrong?” He asks.

Because he misses nothing.

I shrug, watching his face. “I’ve just never had anyone stare at me like this.”

“Naked?”

I nod.

Cardan searches my eyes for a moment, and then the glint in his own returns, bright and teasing, but also soft and adoring. “I could stare at your body for the rest of my life, Jude Duarte.”

“I would be a corpse by then.”

“You sure do know how to ruin a moment, don’t you?”

“You’re the one that was mesmerized by the ducks on my panties,” I say.

“I was also very much mesmerized by your backside.”

I blush.

“It’s your turn,” I say, biting the inside of my cheek, daring myself to move my hands to his shirt.

I undress him slowly, too. Slower than he was with me. And it irks him – I can see it. And it just delights me. 

“Patience is a virtue,” I remind him, placing a kiss on his jaw.

He almost growls, and I smile.

His trousers are the last thing that leaves his body, and then he’s lying next to me naked, looking at me as I look at him. Of course, I expected him to be close to flawless. Of course he is. But I find myself loving the bits of him that are not that. The scars, the little things that mark him as different. That mark him as Cardan.

We share small touches, Cardan pulls my hair over my shoulder, leaning in to touch his lips to the exposed skin. And we’re both on our sides, facing each other. I shiver when his mouth pulls away. And I find him staring at me, his hand dragging from my shoulder down to my thigh – his gaze following.

“What?” I whisper to him, trying to read him.

“You’re just so soft.”

“And breakable?” I guess.

“Human,” he corrects. And he doesn’t say it with the least bit of judgement or prejudice. He says it like it’s a fact. A good thing, even. Like I’m something to be cherished. And it makes me think that his forefathers didn’t do a very good job at making Cardan think the way they did.

I touch his face. “Am I…that different?”

Cardan looks at me, and sees past the basic question. He tips my body back, crawling on top of me. I’m drunk off the feel of him against me, on me.

“No,” he says. And I don’t believe him – because he looks fascinated.

He leans down, kisses the underside of both my breasts, then the center of my stomach, letting his hands drag over the sides. I smile at him when he looks at me. He returns a lazy smile as he drags his mouth to my sides, caressing my hips. His hands are firm when he grips them, and it takes my breath away when his lips drag downward.

He seems lost in me – and glad of it.

He spreads my legs open, and I let out a breath when he looks up at me. Lost and found. I will always find him. He will always find me.

When he kisses me, I jolt, my hips leaving the mattress. Cardan grins against me, takes both my hands and allows me to dig my nails into his skin as his lips wreck me. I lay my head back, seeing rainbows in my eyes, seeing blue skies and sunrises as Cardan tastes and takes as he pleases. Sometimes I feel his eyes on me, attentive to my every reaction, every breath that leaves my lips. My hands soon leave his to touch his hair, feeling myself fall and needing something real to hold on to. I think I whisper his name, for Cardan grins wider against me.

I fist the bed sheet and turn my face away when his fingers move on me. So gentle, and yet making me gasp and shake and tremble beneath him. I plead for something, anything, and Cardan gives it to me. He gives everything to me.

I shatter with his name falling from my lips, his hands on my thighs, fingers dragging along my skin, smoothing the trembles from my legs. And I think I can’t open my eyes. I think I’ve sunk into this mattress and there’s no way I’m getting back up again.

I feel him smile as he kisses his way up my body, letting my legs fall limp and exhausted on the soft sheets. His kiss his hot this time, clumsy, urgent. And I’m distracted by the way he bites my lower lip, distracted by his taste, distracted by the sounds he makes in the back of his throat.

Then his tail drags up my leg.

I gasp, wiggling away from its tickling moves, struggling to breathe between my laughter. I look up and see him smiling down at me.

Smiling.

Like he’s happy.

Like he’s being put back together, piece by piece.

Our smiles soften, and then I’m looking at him and thinking the world has never looked brighter.

Gently, I take his tail and watch as his face changes.

I stroke the thin skin, dragging my hand to the top. I feel him shaking beneath me, his arms not being able to hold his weight so well. And, feeling brave, I take my other hand and grip the length of him.

His hard and soft at the same time. So smooth. I watch his mouth fall open as I stroke him carefully, both his member and his tail. Cardan lets his head fall on my shoulder. “Stop,” he whispers. “Please, Jude-“

“Why?”

Cardan grunts, thrusting into my hand. I stroke harder, watching as his face contorts, his eyes closed. Then Cardan is pulling my hand away, and his tail slips from my fingers.

“Because,” he says, breathless, opening his eyes as he places his hands on either side of me. But I feel him against me and I want- “Because you’ll end my fun too soon, lovely Jude.”

“That’s part of my fun,” I smirk at him.

Cardan watches me, and then, “My smart mouth.”

He’s hot and hard against me. And the words make me burn further. “Please,” I tell him, suddenly desperate.

I part my legs wider, wrapping them around his waist.

Cardan closes his eyes, trying to regain some of his control.

“Cardan,” I plead, shattering my pride and not caring.

He touches his forehead to mine, breathing in. I think he’s going to move his hips, but instead I hear him say, so low, “Won’t you say it?”

I look at him. Stare at his closed eyes and the expression that resembles something close to fear. I touch his cheeks, so gently, my thumb traces the corner of his eye, urging him to look at me. And when he does, I whisper, so low, but so very clearly, “I love you.”

His face transforms.

Hope ignites in his eyes.

I bite my lip when I feel him. I move my hips to accommodate him. “I love you,” I say again, this time a whisper.

And Cardan lets out a breath or an exclamation or a moan. He’s smiling as he moves his hips against me. He’s kissing my face when I furrow eyebrows, kissing everywhere he can reach when the sting makes me whimper.

He makes it all better. He makes up for the pain. He kisses it away, and promises it to never let it come back.

“I love you,” he says against my cheek, thrusting into me.

The air is slammed out of my lungs, but as I open my eyes and stare at him, I know he knows. And when I move against him again, I let him know in my kiss, in my touch.

I let him know that I can lead the way for both of us.

***

I dress in my own chambers.

My lips tingle with the memory of him, my hips still filled with goose bumps with the reminder of his fingers and mouth tracing hips into my skin.

We had almost forgotten about dinner. And the party.

We laid there, in each other’s arms, for what it felt like hours. I don’t remember falling asleep, but then his lips were on my cheek, his voice telling me we had to go. I barely had time to bathe myself and put on this dress.

But as I make my way to the great hall, surrounded my guests I don’t care about, I find myself searching for him.

I have a surprise.

My stomach turns with nerves.

And with something else.

Perhaps with the mental image of his smile between my legs.

The grand table is packed with delicious food, and the guests wait around, waiting for their king. I grab myself a glass of wine, feeling my heart beating out of my chest.

“Do you know how many times I’ve dreamed about kissing you here?” He told me, placing a gentle kiss on the inside of my leg for emphasis. “Too long, Jude.”

“I love you.”

“You, Jude,” he said, looking up at me, hands on my waist, “are magnificent.”

I hide my smile behind my glass, sipping a large gulp. I miss his warmth already. I miss his smell, his smiles. I’m almost not tempted to watch the Cardan this court knows. The mask he has to put on. I want the one I know. The one that has revealed itself to me.

“Cardan,” I whispered, touching his cheek.

“Jude,” he whispered back.

We smiled at each other as he wrapped his arms around me tighter, pushing me closer to his body. I rested my head on his chest, breathing in his scent.

“You came back to me,” he whispered then, like he was about to fall asleep.

“I came back to you,” I repeated to him, letting the words be the safe boat that rocked him gently to sleep.

I catch a glimpse of Nicasia chatting away with the nobles, and I smile cruelly, although inwardly. I don’t like this possessiveness that’s suddenly grown inside me, but I can’t help the satisfaction of watching her crumble and pout. I can’t help the satisfaction that she was denied. After all these years, that’s what she deserved.

“My court.”

The voice makes me look up.

And I choke on my wine.

Cardan stands next to his throne.

Looking dashing. Obviously.

But there’s something else.

There are two thrones.

No, you did not. 

I did, lovely Jude his smile says as his eyes catch mine in the crowd.

No he won’t.

Yes I will, lovely Jude.

Cardan-

“We will begin our feast shortly,” he says, grinning and with a glass in hand. I look for sighs that he’s drunk but- no, no he is not. He has obviously planned for this.

How did I not notice the second throne? How was I stupid enough not to look that way?

Too distracted thinking about his mouth on you.

I curse under my breath.

“But first,” Cardan says, loud and clear. Everyone watches him – a wicked king, completely unpredictable. “I have an announcement.”

Shit. Shit. Shit.

No he didn’t. Shit. No he didn’t.

Instead of speaking, Cardan walks down the dais and in my direction.

I want to run away, but I’m frozen in place. I’m frozen as he takes my hand gently, as he smiles, the smile I know, the smile he sides from everyone. I’m frozen as he asks, “Join me?”

There’s more to that request. I know that. He knows that.

“Cardan.”

“I can’t do it without you,” he says – only for me to hear. “You know it. I know it. Everyone here knows it. I’m not fit for this. But you are. Together – we can work together.”

“This is a bit too dramatic. I didn’t mean for you to give me a throne.”

Cardan smiles wickedly. “Only the best for my Queen.”

The crowd is shocked.

No one is closing their mouth as Cardan walks me to the throne. Thrones.

I’m horrified.

I’m touched by his words.

He stops at the steps of the dais. He lets my hand go, and nods to my throne.

My throne.

There’s a crown there. A crown that matches his. A throne that matches his.

No one dares to speak.

No one dares to question him when Cardan walks to me and places the crown on my head, letting the sharp thorns on it curve around my head, letting the world know I’m not a breakable rose.

He helps me sit.

“You’re insane,” I mutter to him as he sits on his own throne.

Nicasia has fainted.

His court is murmuring between them, startled and confused.

Cardan looks around. He’s pleased.

I can’t believe I’m happy about this.

He looks to me then. Takes my hand. “You’re where you belong.”

“With you – on a throne?”

Cardan nods. “We play this game better together.” He flashes me his wicked smile. “And what’s a wicked king without his wicked queen?”

THE END


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